Body and Soul
by Mukaebi
Summary: Kurama took the body meant to be given to another soul. At the time, he thought nothing of it. Now he has no choice when faced with the last person he thought he'd meet.
1. Kyoko

Okay, before we get started I just want to say that this story is strange even by my standards. I do not own Yu Yu Hakusho but I do own the story line and the original character, Darda/Kyoko (this will be explained). Please be kind and review on your way out.

**Summary: A new girl enters into Kurama's class with beauty and brains enough to challenge him and dreams of becoming a doctor. But that's not why she came. She has returned to reclaim what was once hers no matter what it takes.**

Winter was nearly upon them. The obvious drop in temperature was but one clue. The fact that shoe lockers were now nearly filled to bursting with scarves, gloves, and a few hats was another. Blustering winds chilled the students to the bone as they walked (a few running) into the school and by the time most reached the building, their noses and cheeks were flushed with cold.

Even the classes themselves seemed to have been affected. Literature classes began studying one of the most famous of Japanese figures, the Yuki-Onna. A spirit woman who would lure men to their deaths with her beauty. Many of such classes were in the middle of compare and contrast sections involving this cruel maiden and the frost giants and Snow Queen of the western folklores. It was an entertaining change when compared to the grueling sections of reading seemingly countless classic texts.

Students were gathered in the halls, nearly tripping over one another in an attempt to see the scores of the latest literature tests. Looking over the names and scores, a few sighs of defeat echoed through the halls. They wondered why they even bothered to look at the scores anymore because they were always the same: Minamino Shuiichi with the highest score, and Yuu Kaito not far behind him. This ritual of sorts was pointless.

Rows of desks were slowly filling with students, the stragglers trickling in at the last moment, dashing to their desks books and note books already set out for class. A group of girls had gathered at the back corner of the room chatting and giggling. Anyone who attended the school knew just who it was they were talking to.

"Wow, Minamino-kun, you got the highest score again! That's so amazing!" one of them gushed.

"I'll say, that test was hard. I could hardly remember half of what we read." Said another.

He looked up at them and gave them a dazzling smile. "It wasn't that difficult. But I suppose I had a bit of an unfair advantage since I do enjoy reading in my spare time."

"Really? Did you read any of the books we looked at?"

"Yes, I've read most of them actually, the 'Tale of Genji' is one of my favorites." He replied.

The door clattered open, and the girls scrambled to their places. Sitting up strait and quiet as the teacher entered. Following after him was a girl none of them recognized. Strange, they didn't remember being told of a transfer student. On second thought, who cared?

She was the perfect example of classic, fragile Japanese beauty, like the women in wood block paintings. Black hair tumbled over her shoulders and the curve of her breasts. Her waist was narrow and the uniform skirt hung from slightly wide hips. Almond eyes were dark and warm. Sakura pink lips curved into a friendly smile… Her skin was sickly pale, ashen like that of a long dead corpse.

"Class, I would like to introduce you to Kyoko Akihoshi. She has just recently moved here from Hokkaido and I would like all of you to make her feel welcome."

Her smile brightened and she bowed low. "Ohayo gozaimasu. Dozo yoroshiku." She said politely.

"You may take the seat next to Minamino, Akihoshi."

"Thank you sir." She looked up to find her seat. And her eyes met with Kurama's. For a brief fraction of a second, her face became ugly and contorted. Her eyes narrowed and she snarled in unsuppressed rage.

But her mask slid back into place as quickly as it had disappeared and she smiled coyly.

The outburst however, did not go unnoticed. As she sat down, Kurama stole a quick glace at her, taking in her features, sizing her up. She turned to him, the hatred in her eyes as plain as day despite the shy, happy façade. Whatever he had done to her, he didn't know. But what did it matter? She was no threat to him.


	2. Observation

Over the next passing days, Kurama came to know Kyoko a bit better. She was intelligent, enjoyed science, and studied hard. More then anything else, she wanted to become a doctor, to use her knowledge to help people. And she hated him with a fiery passion.

His glance stealing didn't go unnoticed. Rumors had already started flying about them. About how much he was attracted to her, what a cute couple they'd make, right down to things that really shouldn't be said in public. If a couple could do it, then they had done it. All because they were "so in love". It was ridiculous but it made good cover for the growing tension between them. Just that morning, discreetly phrased threats had been given. Promises of pay back, of retribution, and vengeance for his crimes had been whispered to him. As far as anyone else was concerned, they were sweet words exchanged between lovers.

Luckily, not everyone was as naïve. Kaito had said something about sensing an aura of pure malice surrounding Kyoko. Every last drop of it aimed at Kurama. And though he didn't know why, since he had many classes with her, Kaito promised to keep an eye on her. And in doing so, many disturbing things came into light. Knowledge of medicine was not the only thing she had. It appeared that she knew more about poisons and plagues then any school girl should know. Her knowledge of Black Death and the numerous tuberculosis and influenza outbreaks made it appear as if she herself had witnessed them and her descriptions of the agony of said diseases were sickeningly vivid.

"There is something wrong with that girl." He had said. "Not even the most famous scholars know that much about the Black Death. If the thought wasn't so impossible, I'd say that she had seen it herself."

"What do you mean?" Kurama asked in reply.

"She gave the names of victims, of doctors, and the numbers of people that died daily. Every detail you could ever imagine she knew." Kaito was obviously flustered.

"Perhaps she has merely done her research." He suggested coolly.

"Then who was Royd, the farmers son who died in the winter when he was six? Who was Viveka, the doctor who housed the sick in her own home beside the apple orchard?"

"I don't know."

"You don't suppose she is a demon in human guise do you?"

"No, I sense no demon energy, only human and spirit energy."

"Whatever you say Minamino. Just be careful. I've got a bad feeling about her…"

He trusted his word. Even the youko within him had stirred to life, whispering to him, silver fur standing on end as he appeared in the back of his mind. Youko hissed warnings about her, telling him to avoid her, to keep as far away from her as he could and subconsciously taking note of all her actions and habits. Violent tendencies were soon revealed.

Flu season was in full swing and her presence took a drastic turn. The energy that went toward her hatred switched gears to make sure that any of her class mates that fell ill could get better. Though she wasn't a doctor, she freely gave advice to the students on preventing the spread of disease and curing it. Word of her miracle teas and herbal remedies spread like wild fire. Even the school nurse was impressed and humbled by her knowledge.

And it seemed that no one, not even the mighty spirit detective Yusuke Urameshi was immune to the disease.

His fever was high, reddening his cheeks and the nausia turning the rest of his face a most unattractive green. His eyes were a bit blood shot and he could barely move without feeling the pain of such simple movements. Sweat shined on his body. Occasionally, his strings of indignant curses would be rudely interrupted by body quaking coughs and sneezes. Which was why Shizuru, Kuwabara, and Kurama himself were there.

Reaching a hand into his hair, Kurama pulled out a seed, as large as a cherry pit and held it out in his palm. As Kuwabara explained the lessons that Yusuke had missed, he poured his energy into the tiny seed and watched it carefully as plant grew. Dark, glossy leaves reached out from thick, woody stems and buds blossomed into bright orange and yellow flowers. A makai plant, and one of the most powerful cure-alls he had ever had the good fortune to come across.

"Yusuke," he said, quieting the argument between him and Kuwabara. "Take this flower and grind it on your back teeth. Get a full night's sleep and you'll be in perfect health by tomorrow."

"Hey, awesome!" he replied plucking a bloom from the plant. "Thanks Kurama."

He eagerly popped into his mouth and started knawing on it. It wasn't at least until the third bite that the flavor of the plant burst into his mouth. The bitterness of it was overwhelming.

"Ugh! The hell is this Kurama! Tastes like a frickin' lemon!"

"Yusuke please, if you want to get better you have to continue chewing on it until I tell you to spit it out."

"Have you ever tasted one of these things, you son of a - "

"Yes I have. I've used it many times. The taste of the ukime plant isn't pleasant but it's healing abilities are a miracle in itself."

"'Ukime Plant'? Perfect name for it…ugh…"

"Alright Yusuke, you can spit it out now."

Never in his life was Yusuke so happy to listen and follow the orders of someone other then himself and his ego. Hastily, he snatched a tissue from the oddly colored cardboard box and spit what remained of the flower into it. And to think that he had once complained to his mother about the taste of childrens cough syrup. That gunk was coca-cola in comparison to the plant Kurama had just given him.

He wished he had a toothbrush.


	3. Flood Gates

**Before we start, I'd like to get a few things out of the way first. I'd like to give a special thanks to purplehairedwonder, KyoHana, Fruit is NOT a Dessert, and Maverick 48 for reviewing and offering me the appreciated constructive criticism. Purplehairedwonder, if you would be so kind as to e-mail a few tips to improve my dialog, that would be wonderful. Also, these chapters are coming up quickly because I have posted it on and since this site is now working for me, I wanted to post it on both. If the chapters and style seem short and choppy, it's because I'm trying to learn to streamline my writing as opposed to a obscenely great – and sometimes unnecessary - amount of detail (my LotR fic is proof).** **And also note that the italics that appear in this and any following chapters will signify a flashback.**

"Shiori? Are you feeling alright? You look a bit pale."

_The trees were lush and green with pale blossoms beginning to bloom on the branches. There were so many, they were countless. She would have more apples then she_ _knew_ _what to do with this year. Then again, if her daughter were to get to them, they'd be gone in minutes. Perhaps this was a good thing; heaven knows that they didn't have the storage space for them all._

"Really? You don't suppose I've caught that flu going around do you?"

_Tiny green shoots poked out from the soil. The herb garden was coming along nicely. Rumor had it that the local farmers had said that since spring came so early that this coming winter was going to be brutal. It was simply impossible to have too many herbs on hand for those who needed them._

"Maybe you should go home and lie down, just in case. Rest is the best thing for illness after all."

_Oh, that mischievous daughter of hers! Still playing in the river when the cloths needed washing! There was absolutely no way_ _she was going to allow her to sit, soaking wet, at the table when they were having company over._

She pulled the comforter and blankets tight to her body, feeling a slight chill coming over her. Of all the times to be ill too. What horrible luck.

Reaching over to the bedside table, she set the alarm for five o'clock. Dinner wasn't going to make itself after all.

_Her fingers were stained red and purple and the basket of berries was nearly half empty. Insects hummed in the summer heat. A small fire was lit on the other side of the room. Slowly but surely, it was dying down but no one paid any mind._ _They were too engrossed in the conversation._ _It seemed that this man, Jonathan_ _Wyatt, indeed deserved to be called one of the finest doctors in Europe. Even her daughter, usually so lively, sat still,_ _listening_ _intently._

Sighing quietly, she gripped the covers as she rolled onto her side. This had so far been one of the most unusual dreams she had ever had. It was so real…

_The snowstorm was the worst the village had seen in ages. Great trees and houses alike were crushed and snapped in half like twigs beneath the weight of the snow. The wind howled and blew even the heaviest of wagons off the_ _roadways._

As if all of this had really happened…

_Her home and clinic was filled to bursting. Every available cot and cushion held a patient in her care and more were arriving by the hour. With no where else to put them, the new arrivals were led quickly to the barn where they lay_ _warm in piles of clean hay, waiting to be tended to._

Her alarm had been beeping for well over three minutes but she paid it no mind. This dream-scenario was far too familiar for a mere clock pull her from it. And it didn't go unnoticed.

_With Jonathan downstairs offering his assistance where he could, she rushed up the stairs with her long winter skirt clutched in her fists._ _Her dying patients looked at her grimly, sad smiles on their faces as they turned to look to the right side of the attic space._

"Mother? Mother are you alright?" Shuiichi called softly. He put a hand to her shoulder and shook her gently. She didn't wake up.

_What were once bouncing, red curls now lay flat and dull on the pillow. The color had drained from her face and sweat glittered on her forehead._ _Her breaths were quick and shallow, more like a fish plucked from the lake. With an agonizing groan, her eyes slowly opened the green color dull, dark, and glassy._

_This wasn't happening._

With her arms and legs tangled in the bed sheets, Shiori half-heartedly thrashed against Kurama's grip. She squeezed her eyes shut as a desperate cry escaped her throat.

"_Mother…help me."_

He called out to her again

"Mother! Wake up! Please, you must wake up!" Kurama's voice grew louder.

"Iie…" was her panicked reply. In the recesses of her mind she could hear him. She could feel his hands trying to shake her back to consciousness. The scene before her, however, was like a car crash. You want to look away but, in your shock, find yourself unable to.

"_I don't want to die…I don't want to die…"_

"Mother!"

"_I don't want to die!"_

"Mother, please, wake up!"

"_I DON'T WANT TO DIE!"_

Leave, leave! Couldn't he see that the girl was in pain? Couldn't he see that she was dying? Couldn't he see that… they were the same person?


	4. Skin

The sidewalks had become living rivers. People with places to go and people to see. It was so crowded that some of the unfortunate ones on the edge of the walkways were nearly shoved into the busy streets.

Among them, the fox walked alone. In his arms, a pharmacy bag with medicine for his mother.

After she had awoken from her fitful sleep, she had looked at him. Tears shone in her eyes and yet, she didn't understand why she had been crying. Seeing the worry in her sons' expression, Shiori had questioned him, thinking that he was the one in pain. His worry gave way to confusion. Surely a dream like that would've been easy to remember. Wouldn't it?

"_A dream?" she had asked._

"_Yes mother. I had tried to wake you many times, but you didn't hear me." He replied._

"_That's strange…oh, but it must've been quite the nightmare."_

It didn't make any sense. How could something that had terrified her so greatly in sleep be so easily forgotten when she woke up? Lowering his head, heavy with thought, he bumped shoulders and elbows with other passerby's, without even the smallest attempt at an apology. Why worry about something so trivial like manners when his mother's health was in question?

The sun was starting to go down, with the temperature along for the ride and Kurama sped up his pace, wanting to get home and escape the cold. His shoes made the slightest crunching noise in the snow and had it not been for his quicker-than-human reflexes, many rather embarrassing skids were barely avoided. The pills in the white plastic bottle shook and sounded like a baby rattle in its brown paper bag keeping perfect time with his steps. He could see his breath and in a brief and elusive moment, his mind registered the unusual thought that, to a child, he must've looked like an old fashioned train.

Fox fur bristled and in an instant, it was up on all fours with shining teeth bared.

The old children's play ground was riddled with snow angels and snow-men (and snow-women) of every shape and size. What remained of a sorely defeated snow fort was in ruins and tiny icicles hung from the jungle gym. And bundled up in a coat and scarf of white, was Kyoko, swaying back and forth on the swing set.

"Kyoko?"

Creak…squeak, went the swing.

"What are you doing out here? You'll catch cold." He said in cautious concern.

Creak…squeak.

"Did something happen at home?"

Creak.

"Are you waiting for someone?"

Squeak.

"Or were you waiting for me?"

Ksshhh! Her shoes dug a trench in the snow, the soles skidding on the gravel beneath as she came to a stop. Standing up, the blanket of snow that had gathered in her lap fell away to the ground. Her fingers peeled from the icy chains and dropped to her sides.

Without a word, she stepped toward him. One foot in front of the other and Kurama tensed as she came closer. Instinctively, his body shifted, his knees bending to spring out of the way of a sudden attack. The fox within him curled in on itself snarling and barking.

She stopped and raised her head. In her eyes shone a hatred that he never knew existed. That he hoped he would never see again.

And yet, somehow, he couldn't understand why she identified herself as the victim.

"Give. It. Back." She hissed.

Like a bullet train, a force hit him like nothing before it and his body was thrown clear into the wall of the public rest rooms. He gasped as the air rushed from his lungs as a cloud from his mouth and the bottle of pills tumbled to the sidewalk. And to his shock, he noticed that he was held at least a foot above the ground pinned like a ruby red butterfly in a collection. Thrashing to try and loosen the grip of whatever held him, he looked up to see Kyoko with her arm and hand outstretched in his direction.

She was a telekinetic.

"Give it back."

Yanking his body from the wall, pain shot through his back as it slammed into a nearby park bench. Green painted wood splintered in every direction and he scrambled to his feet.

He tried to reason with her. "I've taken nothing of yours!" he shouted.

"Liar. Give it back to me."

He connected hard with the trunk of a leafless tree.

"What did I steal from you? Tell me!"

"You know what you took, Shuichi Minamino" his name was spoken mockingly. "You're wearing it now."

What did she mean? As far as he knew, with all certainty by the way, the clothes were his, the jacket was his, and he didn't wear jewelry. Even if he did, why on earth would he wear women's jewelry? He had never been so perplexed in his life.

The twigs of a bush cut and scratched his face and hands. A few threadlike slits began to bleed. As if it were the most fascinating sight in the world, he stared at his palm. His palm…wasn't really his.

Inari forgive him…

What remained of the snow fort was utterly destroyed.

He had stolen Kyoko's body.


End file.
